


The Kissing Disease

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Wax Verse [15]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Illnesses, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine wasn’t sure what to expect when he rang the doorbell at the Hummel-Hudsons’ home. He restlessly tapped his toes inside his shoes, waiting and imagining what might await him on the other side of the door. Would Kurt be even colder than usual, if that were possible? Or would he be flushed and warm for once, with a fever? Would he be sniffly? Did he have a sore throat? How the hell did vampires get sick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kissing Disease

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during "Silly Love Songs," canon-wise.
> 
> (This series is written out of order. If you'd like a chronological list, I'm on tumblr under the same name, and have a masterpost for this verse which notes the story order!)

_Hmm. What does one wear when hanging out with your best friend on Valentine’s Day?_

Blaine stood in front of his closet, contemplating. The red polo in his hands might have been perfect, but did he want to wear it with his heart-print bowtie, as annoying and constricting as that might feel right now? Should he leave it loose and casual? Then there was an even more relaxed option, his favorite burgundy cardigan and a white henley—but was that festive enough? He’d seen Kurt’s outfits. He knew what he was dealing with.

His heart jolted a little when his phone buzzed and Kurt’s name popped up.

“Good morning! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Blaine chirped as he answered the phone, holding his cardigan in front of himself in the mirror. Yes, he looked good in burgundy, and the henley would be so much more comfortable on his moon-itchy body than a buttoned-up polo, so—

“Happy…” Kurt trailed off, coughing, until he let out a tired sigh and groaned, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”

Blaine went tense immediately. Kurt sounded exhausted, his voice soft and low and weary—and since when did vampires get coughing fits? “What’s wrong? You sound… sick.”

“I am. I guess, I mean… I didn’t think I could get sick anymore, not like this. But I—I feel awful. I can’t come to brunch, I’m sorry.”

Blaine turned away from his closet, discarding the cardigan on his bed, and went to his dresser to retrieve his Dalton Athletics hoodie. “It’s okay, Kurt, get your rest,” he said, his rising concern winning out over his disappointment over their lost brunch date—er, brunch hang-out, or whatever it was. “I’ll come to you, okay?”

“What? Blai—” Kurt started coughing again, and Blaine’s chest tightened with worry. “Blaine, no, enjoy your day, I just—”

“I can’t enjoy Valentine’s Day without you, silly.”

Kurt went silent on the other end.

Blaine cleared his throat. “So, um… I’ll be there as soon as I can. Is there anything you need me to bring?”

“I’m not sure. That’s partly why I called you. Not just to break our brunch da—” Kurt coughed again. “Brunch plans. It’s just… I was good at treating colds when I was human, but I don’t know how to help myself get better now, and… well, you’ve been at this not-human thing longer than me. So, anything you can think of would be appreciated.”

Blaine could already feel his wolf revving up in his chest at the chance to actually do something about this. Kurt was his best friend, he was pack, and going about his day without him, knowing he was miserable, would have driven Blaine crazy.

“I’ll see what I can do, Kurt.”

*****

Blaine wasn’t sure what to expect when he rang the doorbell at the Hummel-Hudsons’ home. He restlessly tapped his toes inside his shoes, waiting and imagining what might await him on the other side of the door. Would Kurt be even colder than usual, if that were possible? Or would he be flushed and warm for once, with a fever? Would he be sniffly? Did he have a sore throat? How the hell did vampires get sick?

Blaine was about to press the doorbell again when it finally swung open and an odd, sour scent washed over him. He wrinkled his nose and exhaled hard through his nostrils as he stared up at Kurt’s brother, who stood in the doorway wrapped in a thick blanket. “You’re sick, too.”

Finn raised his eyebrows in surprise, but seemed too tired for the expression to lift his whole face and ended up looking mildly offended at the question instead.

“Sorry, how rude of me… Hi, Finn. How are you?”

“I feel like crap,” he muttered, shuffling backwards to let Blaine in the house. “You’re here for Kurt?”

Blaine lifted his bag and nodded. “Yep. We had plans, actually, but since he’s sick, we came up with something else.”

Finn leaned back against the door to close it, pulling his hand back inside his blanket cocoon. “Aw, man… I’m such an ass. I gave Kurt and Quinn mono, I hurt Rachel’s feelings, I ruined your date...”

“It wasn’t a—wait, you gave him mono?!”

“I know it’s the ‘kissing disease’ or whatever, I promise that’s not how he got it, he’s my brother and I wouldn’t step on your turf like that anyway, if I liked dudes—”

“My—What?”

“What?”

“Okay, just—” Blaine put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You caught it, and then he fed from you. Has he fed today?”

Finn nodded. “Burt fed him before he left to run errands. Mom had to… she took it out of Burt’s arm so Kurt wouldn’t have to bite into him.”

Blaine winced. “Don’t want to give him mono too, right?”

“We don’t know if Kurt’s contagious, but they didn’t want to take the chance. This sucks so bad and it’s all my fault.” Finn pulled the blanket tighter around himself and started to shuffle back towards the stairs, but suddenly Kurt was standing there, blocking the way and looking equally miserable.

Blaine stepped closer when he caught sight of Kurt’s appearance. He was bundled in black yoga pants and a printed, dark red hoodie with his messy hair tumbling out of the front of the hood—which was startling in and of itself, since Blaine hadn’t seen Kurt in anything other than meticulously accessorized outfits and neatly groomed hair in the three months they’d known each other. He was even paler than usual, grayish even, his freckles standing out in stark contrast. The greenish-blue color of his eyes had faded so much that it almost looked white. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t helping.

“You didn’t spontaneously sprout mono, Finn,” Kurt sighed, leaning against the banister at the foot of the stairs. He paused, coughing for a moment, before he continued, “Santana gave it to you on purpose. We couldn’t have known. I mean, Quinn wouldn’t have gotten sick if you two hadn’t been sneaking around behind Sam’s back, so that’s on you, but don’t worry about me.”

Finn just sighed and closed his eyes.

Kurt mustered a small smile and turned to Blaine. “Thank you for coming over. You really didn’t have to.”

Blaine just tilted his head and stared at him.

“...But, you want to spend Valentine's Day with me,” Kurt finished, a tiny little smile in the corner of his mouth dimpling his cheek.

Finn coughed and made his way to the stairs. “I'm going to my room,” he announced, and Kurt moved aside so he could leave the foyer.

Blaine moved closer, his nose twitching as he took in Kurt's sickly scent. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold.”

“You're always cold.”

Kurt shook his head, crossing his arms around himself. “Not like that. I feel like I actually have a chill this time.”

Blaine reached for him, slow and tentative with his head tilted, until Kurt nodded and pushed his hair off his forehead.

Kurt groaned and pressed into Blaine’s touch when he pressed his palm to Kurt’s face. “You're so warm.”

“Kurt… so are you. You have a fever, come on, let's get you back to bed.” Blaine reached over and put a hand on Kurt’s back, gently turning him around to guide him up the stairs. Kurt was moving slowly, lethargically, like it made his body ache to do so, but he wouldn’t fully lean on Blaine as they made their way to Kurt’s room.

“I bet this isn’t what you had in mind for Valentine’s Day when you woke up this morning,” Kurt said, a self-deprecating little laugh brightening his weary features for a moment before he settled on top of his bed with his legs folded underneath him.

Blaine shrugged and sat his bag at the foot of the bed. “Well, I don’t know about you, but hanging out with my best friend is _exactly_ what I had in mind for today. That’s what we planned. That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

Kurt smiled to himself as Blaine turned and put his coat and scarf on Kurt’s desk chair. “That’s what we’re doing,” he said. He watched as Blaine adjusted his lowered hood around his neck and idly scratched his fingers through the back of his loose curls. “We’re close to the moon, huh? Two days, I think.”

Blaine froze in surprise. “Yeah. You just—knew that?”

“I’ve been keeping track since we met. It seemed like something I should know. You’ve been so great about the vampire thing, I thought it was the least I could do to pay attention to what’s happening to you every month.” Kurt looked away after he said it, coughing into his elbow and fiddling with his hoodie strings.

“Oh. Wow. Thank you, Kurt.”

See, pack wasn’t just a list of people to care for, in Blaine’s mind. It wasn’t only about protecting and looking out for the people closest to him. It was also about knowing that someone was looking out for him, too. Blaine had a sudden vision of himself—his wolf—nuzzling and affectionately licking Kurt’s face in appreciation, and the thought came quick and insistent: _I am crazy about you_.

Kurt looked up at him then, soft and sweet and inquisitive.

Blaine realized he was staring. “Okay! Um. Time for Blaine Anderson’s Sick Vampire Feel-Better Plan!” he said, wiggling his fingers with a huge, goofy grin on his face. His heart was pounding, and he knew Kurt could hear it, but maybe if he ignored whatever was happening inside him until he could figure it out, Kurt would too.

“Patent pending, I assume?”

“That’s correct. Now, when you’re sick, it’s good to stay hydrated. And I figured that only the best and highest-quality water would do for you, so…” Blaine got on his knees on the bed and pulled three bottles of Pellegrino from his bag.

“Oooh!” Kurt ran his hands over the green glass bottles in front of him. “Filtered tap water is fine, honestly, but this is a treat.”

“Mm-hmm. With that in mind, I know you can’t really eat or drink much, so soup and orange juice are out,” Blaine said, giving Kurt an apologetic little grin as he reached into his bag again. “But I thought, since tea is pretty close to water, and you can drink that, that this might work? Green tea is really good for detoxing and boosting metabolism. Maybe it can help your body work through the illness faster.”

Kurt took the box of tea and examined the label. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve eliminated anything that isn’t blood or water from my diet.”

Blaine wasn’t sure if it was insensitive to ask, but curiosity struck. “What food do you miss most?”

“Cheesecake,” Kurt moaned immediately. “And pizza, and hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream.”

“Pizza, really?” Maybe it was Kurt’s current liquid diet, and the fact that Blaine had never seen him eat anything, that made those answers surprising, but he couldn’t even imagine Kurt chowing down on decadent or greasy foods.

Kurt nodded, staring at the box of tea as if willing it to transform into an edible mocha latte. “My dad ordered pizza so much when I was a kid and it was just us and he didn’t know what to do with the kitchen, it’s like—a comfort food. I mean, I know it’s silly, it’s just pizza, people eat pizza all the time, but—”

“It’s not silly, Kurt,” Blaine replied. God, he couldn’t imagine it. Food was something he took for granted. It was always there, he didn’t have any allergies, and his wolf didn’t prevent him from eating anything; in fact, his wolf encouraged him to eat _more_ than he usually would. He could barely process it when Trent told him he was allergic to gluten—most foods, the _best_ foods in Blaine’s mind, were overflowing with it—so the absence of food _entirely_ was sort of beyond Blaine’s comprehension.

And, as Kurt noted, food was an emotional thing, too. Blaine remembered how distressed Kurt had been on Thanksgiving—his first without human food—and how much he’d wanted to eat. Blaine also remembered how useless he had felt, unable to empathize or to do anything about it but to discourage Kurt from eating because they both knew it would just make him sick. Just the _memory_ of how human food tasted and how it made him feel had been enough to give him phantom cravings.

He wondered how long it would take Kurt to forget.

Blaine kept pulling items out of his bag. “So, I’m not sure if you’re achy at all, but I thought pills might help. I have Tylenol and Advil, and I also grabbed some iron supplements since I figure your blood’s kind of ‘off’ right now. I don’t know if you can take medicine, but…”

“I don’t know. I haven’t used aspirin or anything since I turned, since I haven’t needed to. But... it might be okay if we smash it up and put it in water. I think.”

“Hmm. Okay, last but not least, because I just thought they might make you cozy and they’re cute, I have some thermal socks.” Blaine handed them to Kurt, who burst out laughing when he saw the print. They were long, thick, fleece-lined orange socks covered in black bats.

“You know the bat thing is a myth, right?” Kurt giggled, until his giggle turned into a cough and he was suddenly hacking into the crook of his elbow.

Blaine scooted closer, rubbed his back and said, “I know, but I’ve had them forever, and I thought they’d be more appropriate for you than for me. They’re clean, I promise.”

Kurt sighed when the cough finally subsided, holding Blaine’s hideous socks close to his chest for a moment before he reached down and pulled them on over the bottoms of his yoga pants. He wiggled his toes inside them, then leaned over and pulled Blaine into a hug. “Thank you.”

He was still unusually warm against Blaine’s skin, and he smelled wrong, but his apparent contentment with Blaine’s selections was comforting. Though, Blaine reminded himself, he wasn't the one who was supposed to need comforting in this situation, it still settled him to know he was doing something.

His wolf rumbled happily in his chest.

*****

They spent the afternoon hanging out on Kurt’s bed, chatting and watching YouTube videos and drinking the green tea Blaine brought. Kurt had frowned when he took his first sip, the flavor of something other than blood foreign and sharp on his tongue, especially considering he used to take his tea with honey. But he seemed a little more energetic after drinking it, and so he had another.

Kurt regaled Blaine with the tale of ‘Santana the Mono Fairy’ as they drank. It all sounded pretty ridiculous to Blaine’s ears, his Warbler council drama at Dalton paling in comparison with such antics, but the way Kurt told the story, it almost seemed like just another wacky day at McKinley. As a matter of fact, the only part Kurt seemed distressed about was the fact that he’d accidentally been dragged into it at all.

Blaine found himself viciously angry that Santana had gotten Kurt sick, but the anger sat somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible as he reminded himself: she didn’t hurt Kurt on purpose. The same went for Finn, the direct source of Kurt’s illness.

_Calm down. They didn’t mean to do this to him. They didn’t know._

Besides, as the hours passed, Blaine had to admit—hanging out with Kurt like this, quiet and gentle and relaxed because they had to be, without the pretense of being “normal human boys” in public together—this was nice.

And then there was Kurt, raw and vulnerable and sweet and stripped bare of his usual armor—that was nice, too.

And this, specifically, the two of them sat back against the headboard of Kurt’s bed, Kurt having fallen asleep with his head on Blaine’s shoulder after queuing up yet another _Les Mis_ performance on YouTube—this was pretty fucking great.

At least, it was, until Kurt’s breathing became ragged and his sickly scent spiked with something even more sour. Blaine looked down at him curiously when he smelled it. It was like the sickness was rising, bubbling under Kurt’s skin, the awful scent getting stronger and stronger until—

Kurt whimpered in his sleep and his eyes popped open, so colorless now that Blaine could only see the little black circles of Kurt’s pupils in all the white. He bent over, sliding away from Blaine’s body until he was lying on the mattress.

“Kurt? Hey, are you okay?”

Kurt shook his head, curling up and covering his face with his arm. “Something’s— _wrong_ ,” he gasped, writhing in pain on the bed. His face was slowly turning pink, his skin flushing with blotchy color.

Blaine hopped up onto his knees and bent over him. “What is it, what hurts?” He put his hand on Kurt’s forehead and found that he was burning up. Blaine whined, distressed and canine, and pulled the blanket off him.

Kurt started trembling and breathing hard, coughing, and he wrapped his arm around his stomach. He rolled out of the bed, scrambling into his en-suite bathroom, and slammed the door behind himself.

“Kurt!” Blaine ran after him and stood outside the door, where he could hear Kurt coughing and retching on the other side. The noises were sending Blaine’s wolf into a panic, and he kept sniffing and whining against the door, his fingers toying with the doorknob like anxious paws. “Kurt, please, should I call someone?”

“N-no, just wait, I think it’s—“ He retched again, then let out a groan and spit something into the toilet. “Oh, oh my god. _Yes_.”

Blaine tilted his head at the sudden change in Kurt’s demeanor, but he hardly had time to ponder it before the door finally swung open.

Kurt was bent over the bathroom sink, rinsing his mouth out. The water in the sink bowl was pink. “I think... I just got rid of the infected blood,” he panted, holding a hand to his stomach. “That’s all that came out, just really weird-smelling, clotted blood.”

“Are you sure this isn’t another symptom?” Blaine put a hand on Kurt’s back. “How do we know you’re okay?”

“Blaine, look at me,” Kurt sighed, laughing a little in relief as he turned off the faucet and glanced back at him. His face was no longer flushed and blotchy, or even sickly pale, but almost back to his normal skin tone. His eyes had regained most of their color and were much brighter and more alert than Blaine had seen them all day. “I already feel better. I think it was the tea; you were right, it forced the sickness out of my body. I started feeling different after I drank it.”

He did look a lot better, and he seemed okay, but… “Oh, _god_ ,” Blaine whimpered, putting his face in his hands. He turned and went back to Kurt’s bed, sitting down on the edge of it, and Kurt followed.

“Blaine? You’re freaking out on me, what is it?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he murmured, a little muffled in his hands until Kurt pulled them away. His eyes were huge and downcast as he struggled to meet Kurt’s gaze. “I’m good at pretending I do, but—I didn’t know if the tea would actually do anything, especially not like _that_ , and I—I got so scared just now, I thought you were getting worse, and I didn’t know what to do. I was… helpless.”

Kurt held Blaine’s hand with both of his own, gently noting, “I called you this morning because I thought you might help me, and you did, but it wouldn’t have been your fault if there had been… adverse effects, I guess. Neither of us know what we’re doing.”

“But—“

“Blaine, just because I asked for your help doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility to take care of me.”

“But you’re pack!” Blaine finally shouted. He pulled Kurt closer, wrapping his hands around Kurt’s wrists. No pulse, as usual, but his skin felt cooler—the way it was supposed to feel, oddly.

Kurt just stared back at him for a moment, watching Blaine’s eyes as he pleaded, wordlessly, for Kurt to grasp everything that that meant. Finally, Kurt swallowed and leaned forward, hugging Blaine around the neck.

“You’re pack,” Blaine repeated, quietly and brokenly into Kurt’s hair. “I don’t know what to do about it, I just want to...” _Take care of you. Not let you out of my sight. Rip apart any douchebag who touches you. “_ I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Kurt’s voice was equally soft, but so much steadier, when he asked, “What else do you want?”

And Blaine didn’t know. His wolf was _insistent_ on the matter, but Blaine didn’t know how to separate that from his own feelings. He didn’t know if he needed to. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to screw this up. “You’re my best friend,” he said.

It wasn’t an answer to Kurt’s question, but he nodded and rubbed Blaine’s back. “You’re my best friend, too. I promise I’m okay, Blaine.”

Blaine felt like an idiot, breaking down like this for no reason. Kurt was the one who was sick and coughing up blood. “Why are you the one comforting me right now?” he sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

Kurt handed him a tissue from the nightstand. “Well, like you said, we’re... _pack_. I don’t know much about the concept, but it at least means we’re here for each other, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Before he let himself think about it too much, Blaine leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against Kurt’s cheek. It was one of those little wolf gestures that he’d had to clamp down on more and more when he hung out with Kurt, but felt appropriate now, with Kurt looking at him so sweetly and with so much understanding. Sometimes, it made Blaine nervous to show too much of his wolf to Kurt, but right here and now, with pack, he was safe.

Surprised at this touch, Kurt giggled, “I’m really glad you came over.”

“There’s no one I’d rather hang out with today.”

When he pulled back, Kurt smiled one of his shy, dimpled, bigger-on-the-inside smiles and touched his fingertips to his cheek. Then he leaned forward again, reciprocating the nuzzling gesture with the cool tip of his nose along Blaine’s jaw. “Me either. Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”

Blaine's wolf went wild. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurt.”

 


End file.
